Chaotic Order
by eltseth
Summary: What happens when two broken minds are trapped in the midst of darkness and confusion? AU/No magic. M for bloody injuries and future lemon.
1. Chapter 1: Loud Silence

**AN: **Sup, fellas. I've been wanting to give an AU Snamione a try for two million years now. So I'm going for it!

Summary: What happens when two broken minds are trapped in the midst of darkness and confusion? AU/no magic.

Also: lots of swear words. You've been warned, mate.

* * *

The bright lights reflected upon the graduates' hair, often changing from blue, to green, to yellow and to red. The giant hall was finely decorated from ceiling to floor, with miniature square hats looking as if they were floating, and signs reading _Congratulations! _half-billowing in the air. But what had initially caught everyone's attention was above the festive decorations and the celebratory drinks. Above all the guests, teachers and students, was a ceiling painted so beautifully that it proved to be a distraction from the merriment around. Headmaster Dumbledore looked upon the throngs of crowds proudly, his bright blue eyes twinkling brightly and his gentle smile framing the wrinkles around his eyes. He twisted his head up slowly to look at the magnificence of the Great Hall's ceiling.

It looked like the night sky that you would stay up late in the middle of nowhere to catch a glimpse of. Like an expanse of the most exquisite velvet, the ceiling was a deep dark blue, with small stars scattered around. Here and there would be a constellation of the brightest stars, little or big groups watching over the ceremony. And at the very centre was a huge, pale blue crescent, which glowed brighter than the sun itself. It was the jewel of the painting, the centre piece of the display.

"That's a very good job, Headmaster."

Dumbledore turned around at the mention of his title. He was pleasantly surprised to find one of his not-as-social professors finally coming around to dressing up a little and coming out to the party. "Hello, Severus. Thank you," he replied, looking over his shoulder at a small group of adults chattering excitedly and looking up. "I think the parents like it very much."

Severus Snape was still standing in the darker side of the stage. As usual, he had his blackest robes on, aiding in his blending with the shadows. But his pale skin and brown eyes shone eerily. Dumbledore couldn't help but describe it as an _awkwardly floating head_. It was more a scary sight than a funny one, but Dumbledore still thought he shouldn't mention it for the man's dignity's sake. Instead, he motioned for him to come closer, which resulted in a very reluctant Snape moving forward. He figured the man was having an internal fight over his attending in the first place.

"Come on, Severus. Do you not wish to see your students graduate? At least the ones you've taken a liking to?" asked Dumbledore, his tone betraying his amusement.

At that, Severus scoffed loudly. "'Taken_ a liking to'_? Headmaster, I think your years are catching up with you. Not only is this particular senior year a pain in the ars- in the behind, excuse me, but they're a group plagued with _fame_ and _bravery_ and _heroism_. Not exactly my cuppa." Their gaze drifted to the centre of the hall, where three students stood proudly, albeit agitatedly. They were surrounded by a mass of excited paparazzi and journalists, all of whom jumped over each other's heads, regardless of each other's complaints, to get to the _Golden Trio_. Unfortunately the three students were stuck and desperately trying to penetrate the crowd but to no avail, thanks to the journalists' infamous persistence, and one of them was constantly prodded by a female writer whose glasses were falling apart and whose voice was louder than the obnoxiously loud music. The two professors looked at each other again. Snape sighed and half-heartedly marched towards the troubled students. _Must they always attract so much attention?_

* * *

Hermione stared incredulously at the blonde woman with the broken glasses. Ron, with the advantage of height, was glaring at her. However, Harry pretended to not have heard her, and pushed past another reporter. Two pink circles appeared on his cheeks as the woman fired another question.

"So did the three of you _sleep_ together because of the 'cold', or was it because of another reason?" The woman gestured with her hands upon saying 'cold', further displaying her mockery. Her cheaply coloured blonde hair shone irregularly in the changing lights. More camera flashes went off.

That was when Harry's resolve broke. _More like exploded, _Hermione thought.

"Alright, lady." He stepped towards her. "I have spent over eight months in a shit-cold tent, running after some arsehole of a guy who tried to kill me more times than you can count on your _bony _little hands, fighting two-faced mongrels of the likes of you, and eventually defeating the same arsehole of a guy in this very hall, and you think I can't take up a _shit-eating fuck like you for being the most annoying bloody crap I have had the misfortune of stumbling upon?_" He countered, hissing the last part. Suddenly, the journalists and reporters around them stopped their insistent nagging, eyes widened in disbelief. On the other hand, the camera lights flashed madly in attempt to catch the moment. The moment where the hero of the war wiped the dirty floors with the notorious gossip reporter's face. One lucky reporter, Hermione noticed, was lucky enough to catch most of Harry's little speech on tape. The small black device in his hand beeped as the young reporter pressed the pause button. His mouth was a small 'o', his straw-coloured hair dishevelled and his face flushed.

Harry panted in his fury and Ron had a smirk playing around the corners of his lips. Hermione, being the only one realizing the danger these people pose, pulled her two friends away from the woman. Her eyes almost popped out of their sockets from her embarrassment, and she had her mouth covered with her heavily ringed hand. Her glasses were pretty much a goner, by now, with the bridge broken and the right side dangling off her Romanesque nose. And just on time, Professor Snape pushed her aside and reached out to Harry. He seemed livid; his brows furrowed and his eyes slitted like a predator's, his hooked nose red and his lips in a furious scowl. He pulled on Harry, who in turn pulled on Ron, who pulled on Hermione. He snatched her sleeve reflexively, and Hermione knew her mother would comment on the precious material looking stretched. She didn't know what her mother would dislike more: the scandalous titles of next day's papers or her expensive dress having finger shaped stretches on their right sleeve. She was pulled through three more rows of people, some of whom had snapped out of their reverie and started bothering her with more questions. As she pushed by the last photographer, a stout man with a camera bigger than his head, she started worrying her lip. Ron snapped his fingers in front of her face.

"...and Hermione? Have you been listening to anything?"

Her head turned around abruptly, her hair bouncing along. All three men -_well, Harry and Ron had grown up so fast_- were looking at her. Harry was still a bit jumpy, Ron with his head awkwardly bent downwards to look at her face, and Professor Snape scowling, although he had an air of amusement about him. His stance was more relaxed than in class.

"Yes. Yes, Ron. What were you saying?"

He chuckled humorously as Harry repeated what they were discussing. "We were talking about how Snape's-"  
"_Professor _Snape, Harry," Hermione interrupted.  
"-'dark hero' reputation can scare off the biggest crowd of people you can imagine. Regardless of their _danger level_."

Her two friends fell into another laughing fit as their professor stood, tongue-tied. She thought he was keeping his snide remarks in check for a second but put the thought aside the next moment.

"Perhaps if you, Mr. Potter, had not been so publically intimate with your _mate_, your little girlfriend wouldn't doubt your sexuality so openly." Their professor turned on his heel and marched to the front of the hall.

Harry stood stock-still, with his jaw open and his hands trembling. Ron's ears had gone incredibly red and Hermione thought he might be tearing up out of rage. Hermione couldn't prevent a little giggle from escaping.

As if on cue, Ginny appeared behind Hermione, a flute of champagne in her hand. _Wait. Isn't she underage? _ "Ginny? Should you be drinking?"

Her friend looked at her and smirked, her white teeth shining behind her brightly coloured red lips. "Shouldn't I?" She threw her glass back and finished it in one swing, concluding it with an '_ah' _of satisfaction. "So what's got my boyfriend's and Ronnickins' panties in a twist, hm?"

The mentioned two were obviously still recovering from Professor Snape's remark. Ginny moved to stand beside Harry. Ron, however, had made no move whatsoever with the exception of the speedy rises and falls of his chest.

"Professor Snape made a comment," Hermione started, "about their little _PDA_ the other day."

A few seconds passed. Ginny burst into laughter, her straight red hair naturally swaying with her movement, while Harry slapped his face in shame. Ron's shoulders slumped in defeat. Concerned, but not all too much, Hermione slipped next to him and put a hand on his shoulder in support, smiling.

"Hey, Ron. I'm just joking, you know?"

"Dammit, Hermione. I know. But... no one's going to let this go, huh?" Ron asked, finally looking at her. Seeing her smile, he grinned sheepishly at her. Despite his back being bent and Hermione almost standing on the tips of her toes, he was still a lot taller, Hermione realized.

She stroked his shoulder gently. But then, just right then, they looked at each other. At the same time. Their eyes met. The air suddenly turned uncomfortable, uneasy. Their shared kiss at the battle was quite intense... but ever since something shifted between them. They were more cordial to each other in public, but their conversations were stilled and awkward when alone.

Lost in her thoughts, Hermione did not notice her friends move away. Only one person stayed behind.

"For god's sake- concentrate, woman. Snap out of it!"

Startled, Hermione almost tripped over her own shoes. Some reporters were coming in her direction quickly, albeit hesitantly, and the particularly blonde reporter seemed to have recovered. She looked enraged. Twisting her head around, she saw an equally angry Snape to her right.

His sneer was as strong and offensive as ever when he spoke, "And you put down the most dangerous man by blanking out every five minutes- how?" Grabbing her left arm roughly, he started dragging her towards Dumbledore's direction. Her thoughts couldn't help but drift to her dress' material being stretched, again. Her mother wouldn't be happy.

Once they stepped next to the Headmaster, Hermione stretched out her arm for a handshake. But as Dumbledore drawled on about something, which was undoubtedly interesting, she couldn't help but notice how her Professor's arm lingered a bit on her arm, how his thumb softly soothed the places where his rough, calloused fingers were, how there was this warm tingle... and just as soon as they were there, they were gone, as Snape scoffed gruffly when Dumbledore finished his sentence.

"If you start with this one about Chemistry, trust me, she won't be finished for a few days..."

Dumbledore laughed lightly, as Hermione hiccupped in shock. She knew her face must have been pretty red by then.

"You'd think after a dozen years of teaching Chemistry, _Professor, _you'd come to tolerate the subject a little bit more."

"Maybe if you didn't ruin it for me since the first time you stuck your little hand incessantly in class, _Granger, _I wouldn't be giving out so many detentions."

She huffed in indignation as Snape stared daggers at her. Beside them, Dumbledore's blue eyes twinkled in mirth.

"While I do enjoy your bickering, I think it's finally time to conclude the night. I think it is obvious that we are all quite tired, and are still wary."

"Bickering? Seriously, Dumbledore?" mumbled Snape.

Hermione sighed lightly, and smiled at Dumbledore, reaching out for another handshake. As they shook hands, Dumbledore enclosed her hand in the two of his. He beamed at her for a second before bidding her good night. As she left, walking quickly to her half-drunk friends, Snape exhaled heavily.

"Severus, would you mind taking care of McLaggen to your left? I think he's had too much firewhiskey. Shouldn't have put so much of it up. Oh well..."

* * *

Snape muttered to himself as he aided McLaggen off his chair. With a few awkward contacts, McLaggen succeeded on getting on his two feet. Two seconds later he doubled up and threw up on the floor.

"Fucking hell, does this have to happen every year?" whispered Snape, under his breath. "At least you didn't get any on my shoes. Ugh."

With an order to go straight to his dorm, Snape watched McLaggen stagger out of the great hall. He was about to walk out as well when he realized there was still quite a lot of unpleasant _scenery_ on the floor.

Looking around, he was relieved to see Dumbledore already taking care of it. A short, stout woman, dragging a mop along, was cleaning around the hall. Two more people of the same stature soon joined her.

"Just head down to sleep, Severus. I'll see you to the train tomorrow morning," shouted Dumbledore across the empty hall. Snape waved his hand in goodbye and quickly walked out the hall.

As he climbed down the first set of stairs, his mind couldn't help but wander to a few things. When they finally ended up on Granger, he felt a sudden confusion take him.

How could such a young girl help put down one of the most dangerous men in the world, indeed?

He didn't have much time to think about it, however, as when he arrived in his room and sat on his bed, he instantly fell into deep slumber.

* * *

Hermione stood in front of the full length mirror in her shared room. When her other female friends had complimented her on her choice of outfit, which was an off-white dress and matching shoes, it had did a little something to inflate her ego. Even when her hair had been calmed down only slightly.

Frowning, Hermione started getting dressed for bed. Her head was already pounding as a result from the drinks she'd reluctantly tried out, and her eyes were drooping and her vision blurring. She slumped heavily in her bed, barely setting her alarm clock for early the next day to get ready to leave the school.

* * *

**AN: **tl;dr: Seven-years graduate after the second war. Voldyface is dead and errythang is good.  
For now.

Drop a review and tell me what you think!


	2. Chapter 2: Trouble Begins

**AN: **rofl look who's uploading fast ah aha ha ha /no life

anyway GET READY FOR AN-ACTION-AND-STRANGE-INDIRECT-TENSION PACKED CHAPTER.

* * *

"Bloody hell, Hermione, what in the world do you put in these trunks?"

Discovering that her trunks were much too heavy for her to carry on her own, Hermione had asked Ron and Harry to help her out. With inflated egos and chins held high, they'd agreed, claiming that the bag was probably nothing. "Yer a little midget, 'Mione," Ron had said, following up by annoyingly ruffling her hair.

Thinking of it as sweet revenge, Hermione smirked at the two. "Nothing. Just the usual, really. Books, upon books, upon books inside of books..."

Harry dropped the trunk indignantly, while Ron kept a firm hold on the other handle but continued to glare viciously at her. Unable to contain her laughter, Hermione burst out in chuckles, bending over and clutching her stomach.

A moment later, an extremely tall and equally wide man walked towards them. Looking over at Hermione curiously, he laughed lightly and turned to Harry. "Whot's with 'er? Caught a laughin' spell, 'Ermione?"

Ron replied instead, shifting his angry gaze to Hagrid and whispering, "Or a death-by-a-real-heavy-trunk-to-the-head spell in a minute, maybe."

Taking the situation in hand, Harry elbowed Ron. He took the right handle of the trunk again and started moving, alongside Hagrid. "Hermione's given us the heaviest trunk in the world to carry. We had to drop off our own trunks and come back for this..."

Hermione had caught up with them, her breath still short. She stepped next to Hagrid, and as she caught snippets of the conversation, started laughing again.

"They're just suffering from last night's hangover, Hagrid. They never listen to me. I told them to drink a lot of water before bed, since it should help, but no! They wouldn't listen. They _were_ piss drunk, after all."

With the two boys huffing and puffing and giving up on the trunk, Hagrid asked them to step aside, and heaved it with his left arm. Carrying it with next to no effort, he walked with Hermione, cheerfully discussing his new pet lynx.

* * *

The train was bustling with crowds of over-zealous children and two carriages full of sweets. Harry pushed through the eleven year olds asking for photos and autographs, smiling nervously, with Ron trailing behind, oblivious to the trampled children, and Hermione apologizing at every available chance. They reached one of the only air-conditioned rooms in the back of the train and opened the door gratefully, pilling in quickly and closing the doors.

Hermione started taking off her outer robes when she saw someone sitting near the window.

"Neville! Hi! How are you?"

Ron and Harry turned to see Neville Longbottom huddled up next to the window. Ron smiled brightly and Harry moved to sit next to him.

"Longbottom, mate! Indeed, how are you?" asked Ron, a little over-excited, pounding his fist with Neville's.

"A little cold, but I'm good, thanks," replied Neville quietly. He looked at Hermione, who sat next to Ron, who in turn straightened up and smiled a little brighter. "Luna should be here in a minute, too. She was talking to some unfortunate third year about N-nargles, or something. But she'll be here in a bit."

Harry, Ron and Hermione all sighed collectively. They'd all gotten used to Luna's continual rambling over things that quote, _Wouldn't exist even if science itself went mad_, unquote. Hermione had tried to make that point clear, many times, but there was no stopping Luna. Neville thought it was admirable, how Luna truly believed in them, while Harry and Ron would spend an entire afternoon laughing about it if no one could stop them. Hermione had gotten used to it, and had decided that it wasn't so bad after all. She still liked Luna immensely.

The door opened slightly, and a small, blonde head poked through. The girl's blue eyes shone warmly. Quickly, she walked in and closed the door, then hung a small carrot on the handle.

"Speak of the devil! Come, sit," chirped up Neville. He moved closer to the window, and Harry moved to the side to allow Luna some space to sit. Once she settles down, Harry proceeded to ask, "Have you seen Ginny?"

Luna smiled calmly and tilted her head. "She's buying something, I think. You always glow when someone mentions Ginny. It's incredibly adora-"

Ron coughed loudly, his fist covering his mouth. Harry's cheeks went a little red as well.

"It's nothing. I'm not glowing. What?"

Looking to distract them from Harry and Ginny's awkward sort-of relationship, Hermione coughed a little louder and looked out the window. "Lovely view, isn't it?"

Lamely, she looked at Ron and grinned. "Mind switching places? I want to watch for a while."

Ron abruptly stood up, and dramatically bowed and pointed at the seat. He walked back to allow Hermione some space.

"Ow! Watch it, Ron."

Ron immediately turned his head around, realizing he'd bumped into Harry's knee, and consequently tripped over Luna's foot. He tripped forwards, caught himself at the last second, with both his hands on the bench and his back oddly bent. He stood up quickly and sat himself next to Hermione, a little bit further this time.

Harry smiled a little and said, "Well, at least you stuck the landing."

They all fell into loud laughter, with the exception of Ron, whose ears had gone redder than his hair.

* * *

Sitting in the teacher's compartment, Severus Snape found it too difficult to sleep. Yes, of course, there were the occasional nightmares – not that he ever cared to think them over – but the constant _bump bump bump_ and _tuk tuk tuk_ of the god damned train constantly got on his nerves.

He'd wanted to stay back and work on readying the school for summer and closing up his office, but he'd been picked, much to his dismay, to be a chaperone on the train. _Chaperone. _What a funny word.

Putting the thought aside for a moment, he turned his head to the window. They were approaching a tunnel, so he unconsciously took in as much of the green scenery as possible. But something was odd. He couldn't put a finger on it...

But then he could. The train was slowing down.

Getting up from his seat, he woke up the first teacher next to him. Sybill Trelawney, French professor and one of Hogwarts' least fortunate teachers, was a woman of short stature whose jewels and accessories possibly weighed more than her alone. She woke up, extremely startled, mumbling obscure curses under her breath.

"What? What! What... why are you waking me up?" Trelawney looked out the window. "Why are we slowing down in the middle of nowhere?"

Snape couldn't help but scowl at her. "Do you do nothing but ask useless questions?" He helped her up and lightly urged her towards the other teachers, keeping in mind her groggy state of thinking. "Wake up the other teachers, please, and I'll go talk to the driver. The kids are going to panic."

With Trelawney sleepily waking up the others, whispering _merde! Merde merde! _under her breath, Snape walked over to the front of the train. He noticed how some students were getting out of the compartments and warily looking around. He patted one fourth-year on his shoulder, asking him to move out of the way, and telling him there was no reason to panic. Even though he himself knew that that was probably not true.

The compartments near the front of the train were typically empty, so he revelled in the quiet for a moment. But when he finally neared the driver's room, his scowl returned. The door slammed open, and Snape stepped inside.

"Why in the world would you- what..."

His eyes travelled to the front window, and then downwards, where a huge splotch of blood covered the chair. Then something in the corner of the room caught his eye- the driver. He was on the floor, motionless, his face frozen on his last expression: shock and horror.

Severus approached the driver quickly, kneeling down and holding his head. There was no pulse, as expected. Nevertheless, he tried to check for any other signs, but once again, nothing. Abruptly, he stood up, his eyebrows furrowed and his large nose scrunched. He was confused. Utterly confused, and he didn't like it when that happened.

_Chhk. _A small sound. But after having gone through two wars, Severus knew that a sound, no matter how small, could be incredibly significant. He pulled the glove over his left hand, pushed his wristwatch over his knuckles, and turned around.

His eyes flitted around quickly. His close proximity was empty. His heart thudded against his chest madly.

But then something happened. A student, who'd apparently just woken up to the still train, walked out of a nearby compartment. He was stretching his arms, and turning around; he laid eyes on his professor. But his eyes moved. They rested to the Snape's front-left. His mouth dropped.

Severus felt it all in slow motion: a man, garbed in black and a familiar, white mask, lifted his gun towards the student, to which Snape jumped at, suddenly enraged – _how the fuck did you get in the train?- _but before the gun clicked, Snape smashed his left fist into the attacker's right arm, causing the gun to fall on the floor and shoot- _BAM!- _near the student's feet. Snape tried to hold the attacker by the throat, but he felt two fists push at his chest –_fuck, that hurt!- _as they tried to push him away. Snape quickly reacted, stepping as hard as he could on the attacker's foot. Distracting him for a second, Snape punched the attacker's face, once again as hard as he could –_which was harder than I thought, I guess-_ and watched as the man's nose broke and started bleeding viciously. He pushed the man towards the wall and snatched his mask off.

_Avery. _"I should have known."

Spitting blood at Snape, Avery smiled bitterly. "You should have, _Severus._ Remember how he used to call you that? You were his right hand, mate. He _looooved_ you," he said, in a mocking sing-song voice.

Ignoring him, Snape tightened his hand on Avery's neck. "Lord Voldemort has fallen. Over a year ago. Why? And why now? And _in a fucking school train? _In your Death Eater's mask? Avery, you've gone mental!" shouted Snape, spit flying out of his mouth. His face contorted dangerously in his rage.

The smile fell off of Avery's face. "You dare speak his name, you moronic shit? Our _Dark Lord_ may have fallen, but we will avenge him, and we will avenge him hard. We'll get your Potter, and your _Weaaaasel_, and your filthy little _Granger._ And we'll give them the slow death they've always deserved."

Suddenly, Severus heard a scream from the end of the train. His head turned around, and seeing the opportunity, Avery pushed him away. Before Severus could react, Avery threw a pill into his mouth and fell on the floor.

Avery's bitter smile returned, as his eyes brightened in joy. "It does me honour to die for my master. Don't worry, _traitor-_" he spat more blood onto his floor, his tone vicious, "- they might lose one follower, but there are thousands more of us. The Death Eaters will rise again."

His body convulsed furiously, and it was obvious to Snape that he was in great pain, but the smile remained. He died with bitter happiness on his scarred, bloody face.

Disturbed, but frankly worried about the students, Snape grabbed the gun and sprinted towards the end of the train. Millions of thoughts swam through his brain- _what just happened? Why? The fucking train, seriously? Shit, the parents are going to be real mad. Why did I trust Trelawney with waking up the other teachers? She probably fell asleep again after I left. _But one final thought seemed to linger at the front of his head.

_theyreafterpotterafterweasleyevenaftergrangershits hitshittheyrejustkidsshitshit_

He sped up, finding that he was approaching a teacher. McGonagall, her hair dishevelled from sleep, was ushering kids back into their compartments with calm words and reassuring pats to the head. He sprinted towards her, grabbing her shoulder unintentionally hard and stopped the nearest student from going back in.

"Severus- oh my goodness! There's blood- there's blood on your face! T-There's blood on your everywhere!"

He huffed and shook his head violently. "Minerva, you've been in two wars, you'd think you'd gotten used to blood and gore. Stop these children! Get them out! They're- they're going to..."

He paused. He knew exactly what was happening. He'd pitched in this plan himself...

"They're bombing the train."

Minerva McGonagall, world-renown Biology professor and war hero, stood stock still. Strands were coming out of her vicious bun, her jaw had dropped open, and her shoulders shook to the unsteady pace of her breathing. She turned around immediately, pushing the nearest students towards the nearest exit- she did not think much of being in the middle of nowhere, as long as they weren't in the middle of a bombed train.

Snape patted the woman on her shoulder reassuringly, and started again towards the end of the train. He started feeling dizzy and short of breath, but his mind focused only on getting Potter and his stooges out. He did not see the other students or the professors leading them out.

_This train is inconveniently long. _A few minutes of sprinting, his calves started cramping, but he went on. The weight of the gun in his pocket felt familiar but... unsettling.

He arrived at the end of the train where he knew most of the seven-years are- most of the compartments were empty, with the exception of two which were being cleared by professor Flitwick. He ran to the end. Cursing, he felt rage and fear simultaneously building inside him as each compartment was _empty, empty, and empty! _but he knew, he could feel it, he knew they weren't outside yet.

Panting, he halted, bent over and huffing madly. But then he heard something. He heard a _snore._

Moving ahead a couple of steps, he spied a sleeping Neville. He was snoring loudly on Luna Lovegood's shoulder. Potter and the Weasel were also deeply asleep. But towards the back, Hermione was just waking up. She stretched and looked outside the window. She peered and narrowed her eyes as she saw the obvious- nothing was moving.

"Harry, look, what's happ-" Hermione stilled as her eyes fell on her Chemistry professor.

Snape smirked internally at her shocked expression- _blood can only be so flattering-_ but slapped himself awake and walked closer to the doors. He slid them open, a little blood staining the small windows, and stepped inside the compartment. Knowing that he'd regret doing this, he reached into his pocket, his hand clutching the gun. _Feels good to have something in my hand again._

Pointing his gun to the ceiling and straining his ears, he pressed the trigger and sighed as the shot echoed in the room. The sleeping figures startled awake.

Looking around and tucking the gun into his coat, his eyes met Hermione's.

"You have to get out. Now."

* * *

Havoc. It was the only term Hermione could use to describe what was happening.

Once the rumour got around of the Death Eaters wanting to blow up the train and everything in its proximity, the younger kids started screaming, and the older kids were too confused and surprised to know how to react. The war was over for over a year, and everyone had dropped their guard.

But not Hermione.

Pulling the nearest two to her side- which were Ron and Harry, Hermione headed for high ground. She dragged her two friends behind, ignoring their pitiful complaints, and started climbing the nearest rock. She stood, back ramrod straight and chin held high, as Harry and Ron tiredly climbed up behind her. She held her hand above her eyes and looked around.

They'd all moved into the tunnel, around half a mile from the train. Only five teachers were on the train: Professor Snape, McGonagall, Trelawney, Hooch and Flitwick. McGonagall, expectedly, had reigned in a large number of students and was calming and moving them further into and out the other side of the tunnel. Flitwick, Hooch and Trelawney had grouped up: while the French professor seemed to be distressed and bordering on delirious; but she seemed to be doing fine. Flitwick was attempting to call two second-years, who had been climbing up a tall oak tree. His significantly short stature was not helping.

Hooch, her bright eyes shining in the sunlight, looked a little bit mad. Snape was not cooperating, instead choosing to brood in a corner, hands crossed and eyes flitting everywhere. Instead, Hooch gave up and marched towards a group of meddling boys. She confiscated a rugby ball and shoved them inside the tunnel.

Steeling herself, Hermione turned around, towards her friends. Harry was helping Neville up, and Ron was looking at her curiously. He took a breath and opened his mouth, but then stopped himself.

"Going to say something, Ron?"

He smiled at her knowingly. "Yes, actually. You've got that look."

Hermione tilted her head. "What look?"

"You know, the one you've got when you're thinking. When you know what's going on. Or when you have an idea."

Laughing quietly, Hermione marvelled at his sudden perceptiveness. She replied, "I have a tiny idea. You see, after Harry took out Voldemort and the rest of us handled his closes cronies, we didn't think much of the rest of his followers. After they ran away we thought the commotion would die out. But they know something we don't."

Neville and Harry joined the discussion. Ron towered over the three of them, but he didn't really notice, his gaze steady on Hermione. She felt a bit unsettled and stepped sideways, towards Harry. Ron coughed, and the intensity of his gaze lessened significantly.

"Harry, why was Voldemort after you again? It's always been a confusing concept."

His eyes hardened and his shoulders stiffened. Changing her mind, Hermione started, "I'm sorry, I just needed you to go over it again so I could-"

"No. No. It's fine."

Oddly, Harry kneeled down and sat on the floor. Neville joined him, and Hermione and Ron soon did as well. Neville placed his arm around Harry, and Ron mumbled _it's alright, mate, _under his breath. Hermione felt a little bit guilty, but there was something that didn't make sense.

"Well, you guys know about Voldemort. Everyone knew him, really. And everyone knew Tom Riddle as well, but they never made the connection." Harry laughed acidly. "Formidable criminal Voldemort, same as handsome billionaire businessman Riddle? Of course not."

Hermione stilled. This was the first time Harry had phrased it that way.

"Anyway, my late parents worked with him for a while. Only a little while. Because they found something. A document, or a piece of paper, or some other shit, that they were not supposed to find. Riddle caught them. Dad stepped in front of my mom, saying that he'd bail Riddle out if he hurts them, and they barely managed to get away. They ran away from the city and hid in a little village. Sirius was supposed to help them out... but he wasn't? I'm a little fuzzy on that."

Sirius was still a touchy topic among the group. Having lost him at such a young age, no one knew if Harry had really recovered.

"He found them. Riddle found them. And they figured out how he was also Voldemort, how the whole _charming, filthy rich bachelor _thing was a distraction. He knew about me. He thought I was a threat, for some reason. A one year old, a threat? He killed them both. All I remember from that night was..." He stopped.

This was one thing Hermione was confused about. She found it remarkable, how Harry could remember something from so long ago, and despite it being a few seconds long, he could remember it in such vivid detail...

"My mom whispered some things to me. There were tears on her eyes. And then Voldemort knocked down the door. She stood up to him, and after that there was this light. This green light. It spread throughout the whole room, it blinded me, and I remember feeling scared... and then she was gone. And he disappeared. He wasn't there. Fast forward a decade, I find out that he died that night. I never knew how. But ever since, I couldn't forget that green light."

"What do you think it was, Harry?" piped up Ron.

It was the first time anyone asked about it. No one could tell what it was, and no one really wanted to know.

"I don't know."

Hermione almost shoved herself towards Harry, and gave him a tough, bone-crushing hug. "Thank you. I'm sorry I had you talk about this..."

"It's fine. It feels good to let it out. Only Dumbledore knew about this, and you know how he's like..."

The mood lightened as they all laughed. Then, realizing what was at stake, Hermione pushed herself up.

"Snape knows something, and it's obvious. We _do _need to get as far away as possible."

But before anyone could move, a black-garbed figure appeared behind Harry and grabbed him by the throat.

"Not one step, _Potter_."

* * *

Harry, instinctively reacting, snatched the white mask from the man's face. Even though he couldn't see who he was, he hoped it would set him off guard and give someone the chance to run or possibly attack him.

Hermione suddenly gasped, and her hand travelled to her sternum. "Dolohov," she spat.

With his attention on Hermione, Harry took the chance and elbowed Dolohov in the ribs. He fell on his back, emitting a loud _crack_. Harry moved forward, taking the chance to run.

When he tried to grab Hermione, she escaped from his grip and leaned over the rock to look at Dolohov. She glared at him heavily and said, "It's what you get for slashing your little knife at a helpless target, you despicable man." She flashed him the finger and walked back to Harry.

"We need to go." Harry grabbed Hermione's sleeve, who in turn grabbed Neville, who reluctantly grabbed Ron's shoulder. They half-walked half-ran to McGonagall.

Harry was about to start speaking, when Hermione put her hand on his shoulder and moved up front.

"Professor?"

McGonagall turned around, nervously smiling. "Hermione, dea-"

"Professor Snape was right. A Death Eater just tried to choke Harry. It's a full blown attack."

* * *

Snape observed Granger talking to Minerva. Potter, who was shaking with fury behind Hermione, seemed a little off balance. Something happened.

He marched towards them, intending to ask questions, but McGonagall quickly pulled him aside.

"The kids are saying the Death Eaters are attacking, or something? Is that true, Severus?"

Nodding, Snape sighed. "I met Avery on the train."

McGonagall sighed, exasperated. "Explains all the blood, then. Harry ran into another, over there."

"We do need to get the hell out of here. If there are two of them, there's more. We need to-"

He stopped. Granger's eyes had suddenly brightened. He knew that look. Everybody knew that look. He swiftly walked, arriving at the kid's side, and asked, "What do the _Golden_ trio have in mind? An equally golden idea, I suppose?"

Granger, unfazed, replied. "Not really, no. But it's obvious where they're hiding. See that bush over there? Don't look right away. There are two of them. And that alcove. Gosh, they're swarming the place. They're actually waiting for us all to group together to... take us out... at once."

Surprised by her observations, Snape noted her correctness. This was a common plan, he knew, between the Death Eaters. And he knew he was as much of a target as Potter. They both knew too much.

But Severus knew a little bit more.

He ran towards high ground, as Potter and Granger followed him. The Weasel was trying to calm a terrified Neville down. He was starting to feel hot, the tunnel wasn't particularly shaded or airy, so he slightly loosened his tie. He kept his neck fully covered, nonetheless.

Seeing as he was in a good position, Snape turned to the kids behind him. "Be of some use and do as I say." As they nodded, Snape relaxed slightly and turned towards the irregular crowds of students.

"SCATTER, YOU FOOLS! THE TUNNEL'S FALLING APART!" he bellowed.

Screams erupted, and Snape saw a few Death Eaters come out. He ordered Potter and Hermione to run and hide.

"No, Snape! I'm not hiding! I can't have people dying for me anym-"

"Shut up, you idiot. I'm trying my best not to get anyone killed and you're not helping. If you're not going to hide, at least _do something_."

Immediately, Granger ran and Potter followed. Snape sighed, hoping he hadn't judged them wrongly. He sprinted down, and started subtly ushering students out the other side of the tunnel.

This was not just some fight. This was an uprising.

This was a _dark_ revolution.

* * *

**_Other _AN: **dun dun duuuuun. We're finally getting into the plot. And only two chapters in. This is really something for me...

Drop a review and tell me what you think, m8. :


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